


Looks; proximity to power

by Pansexualweirdo



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Awkwardness, Fluff, It's Not Easy Folks, It's Prom Time Baybee, Jeffmads is the focus here, John Laurens Is Loud, Light Angst, M/M, Or Rather The Progress Of Asking Someone To The Ball, Promposals, What else is new?, background lams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansexualweirdo/pseuds/Pansexualweirdo
Summary: The senior prom is coming up, and Thomas Jefferson wants to ask his best friend to be his plus-one. Unfortunately, asking isn't as easy as he'd hoped it would be. When he keeps missing his window and getting interrupted, will he manage to ask Madison at all, or will he go to the prom solo?
Relationships: Aaron Burr & James Madison, Alexander Hamilton & John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton & Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Thomas Jefferson & James Madison, Thomas Jefferson/James Madison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Looks; proximity to power

It’s only one week left till the annual senior’s prom, and Thomas has yet to ask his best friend out for the event. He’s acutely aware that he should have done it earlier, since most couples are already paired off by now; so if Madison rejects him, Jefferson will most likely end up going alone. And that’s not a pleasant thought. But he’s determined; if only nervous, though he won’t let himself back down before he’s even tried.

'But see, the problem is that Jefferson has already tried to ask James out on several different occasions. Sure, they may not have been the most convenient times and places, but then again; there’s no such thing as _‘the right time’._ Not really.

Like last week after art class, when Madison had fallen asleep on his desk, his head resting atop his crossed arms on the wooden surface. Their friends, Hamilton and Laurens, were in a rush to get to drama class, so their fatigued classmate was left in Jefferson’s hands. Not that Jefferson complained. He made sure the classroom was empty before popping a squat next to his snoring friend, watching him for a moment or two with impossible fondness pulling at the reins of his heart. James’s eyelids fluttered gently against his round cheeks and his chest rose and fell steadily with each deepening breath. He looked completely at peace. Thomas almost didn’t want to wake him.

But alas, both of them would get in trouble if they were late to the next period, so Jefferson whispered his friend’s name, carefully shaking his shoulder.

“Urgh…” groaned Madison, thick with sleep and plenty annoyed, until he rubbed at his eyes and opened them to find Thomas grinning at him. A sleepy smile of his own tugged at his lips and bunched up his cheeks. “Thomas,” he greeted, then looked around them. “How long was I asleep?”

Jefferson shook his head, reassuring him by saying: “A couple o’ minutes, tops. Don’t worry, we’ve got a short window before next class”, to which the other nodded, drowsily so; looking like he wanted to go straight back to sleep again. Thomas had worked up the courage to ask if James had a date now, so he swallowed whatever doubt still floated around in his mind and cleared his throat. Now was as good a time as ever.

“Madison, I- uh… See, I wanted to ask you something.”

Great, he was already stumbling over his words. James sobered up from his newly awakened state, his eyes widening slightly with worry. “What is it?” he asked, and Jefferson mentally kicked himself. He never meant to make his friend nervous. He’d ruined this before he’d even started it.

“Are you getting enough sleep, man?” he instead opted for, the circles beneath James’s eyes drawing his attention. Exam week was closing in, so it wouldn’t be odd for him to lose sleep. Still, Thomas cared a great lot for his friend, so his concern for his health was a genuine one, as much as he wanted to take him to the ball. Or rather, hence _why_ he wanted to take him to the ball.

Shoulders dropping from where they were pinched to his ears, Madison visibly relaxed, letting out a low, half-hearted chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah no sweat. Just been studyin’, y’know? You wanna bolt from this classroom already?”

Although Jefferson didn’t fully believe that’s all it was, he knew by the sound of the alarm on his phone going off that he would have to let it go for now. Next class was in five minutes.

 _To be continued,_ he supposed, slowly rising from his chair rather than jumping off it like he would any regular day. Still, James smiled at him so sweetly that Thomas almost wished it was. He wished there were no senior proms or exam weeks, so that he could ask Madison out at his own leisure, without the pressure of stupid obligatory dances or deadlines.

* * *

Later that day, on a break that he and James didn’t share, Jefferson expressed his thoughts to his two other friends Laurens and Hamilton, who very much knew about his crush. They sympathized with him, seeing as they’d gone through a lot of similar things before they got together. However, this did not mean it would play out the same way for Jefferson and Madison.

“There will be more opportunities for you, Jeff,” tried Alexander with John on his lap, who didn’t see Thomas’s distress quite as easily. “Sure, sure. But lemme tell you, if it wasn’t for this deadline, you wouldn’t tell Mads about your feelings until you both were graduates,” he babbled.

Both Jefferson and Hamilton shushed him, seeing as they were still in public and within full range of any nosy students to overhear what they were talking about. “Thanks for announcing that to everyone in this school, jackass,” hissed Thomas, red-faced and whipping around to see if anyone had heard. Thankfully, there weren’t many other students around, and the ones present were wrapped up in their own business, too busy to be listening in on their conversation.

Sometimes Laurens could match the smoothness of sandpaper.

“I’m just spitting facts. But I _know_ you can do this, you’re Thomas goddamn Jefferson! No obstacles are too high for you!” assured John, almost more excited to see Jefferson ask his best friend out than Jefferson was himself.

So Laurens wasn’t the smoothest, but he could give one hell of a pep talk.

Hamilton agreed with his boyfriend, nodding enthusiastically. “Exactly! Remember last year’s dance? You made sure no one went without a turn on the dance floor!”

That was true, but Thomas didn’t feel the same way for those schoolmates as he did for this one. It was far easier asking someone to dance when you don’t have a romantic attachment to them. Still, Hamilton and Laurens were doing their best to be there for and comfort Jefferson, and he couldn’t ask for any more than that; nor could he ask for better friends.So he forced a smile.

“You’re right. Thanks guys, I’ll keep you updated.”

John laughed, amused. “You better!” 

* * *

The next moment he got alone with Madison was one he had to make room for. James had calculus while Jefferson had chemistry, and as soon as his class ended, Thomas made his way over to Madison’s classroom. He was a little early, but he waited patiently until the door swung open and a stream of students swarmed out. Last came James, polite as always to let his classmates out before him. He made a beeline for his locker, head buried in his math book and therefore he didn’t see his friend waiting for him. Like calculus could be more interesting than _him_ , Thomas thought. He sauntered on over to James’ locker and rehearsed the question in his head again and again. He could _not_ mess this up.

He dragged a hand through his unruly hair, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Did he look okay? Did his breath smell?

“Sooo,.. Mads, you got a date for the senior prom yet?”

 _God, that sounded stupid,_ he thought, mentally kicking himself, but it only occured to him when James closed his locker and said: “What?” that the other had his headphones in. Maybe that was for the better.

_You can’t give up already, he just didn’t hear you. Ask him again, but smoother this time!_

“Oh, I- I was just-...” but before he could get another muddled word out, Madison’s math-buddy Aaron Burr got in between them, asking James about some equation Jefferson didn’t get a word of. Frustration flared up inside of his chest and he made a show of putting his hands up and taking a step back, displaying mock offense - only he _was_ genuinely offended.

Would he _ever_ get to ask his best friend out? Was that so much to ask for?

“Aaron, I was actually in the middle of something with Thomas…” James tried over Burr’s babbling, shooting Thomas an apologetic look, even though the entire ordeal wasn’t at all his fault. Burr turned to give Jefferson a skeptical once-over, and Thomas instisted: “Nah, it wasn’t that important anyway. I’ll catch up with you later, Mads,”. He could only afford Aaron a curt nod. “Burr.”

And with that exit, he fled from the scene, exhausting his full English _and_ French vocabulary to curse beneath his breath as he walked down the hallway with angry steps. His heart pounded out of his chest and he almost stumbled over his own two left feet, which two girls in the corridor giggled at. What was wrong with him? 

* * *

Suffice to say, Thomas feels a bit defeated. He even made one of those super lame, super cheesy ‘promposal signs’ with a pun involving Madison’s favorite game to ask Madison out with.

Unfortunately for Jefferson, he made that sign in the art classroom during designated break periods to make sure no one got suspicious; and when you leave half decent, finished pieces in the art classroom that doesn’t have your name on it, someone’s gonna take it.

So it is with an aching chest and searing anger that Thomas watches some Chad prompose to a girl with **_his_** sign in the middle of lunch. Did that girl even know what game the sign was referencing? Did her _suitor?!_

It doesn’t seem to matter when the girl pulls her beau into a slobbering makeout-session to a wave of approving applause, wolf whistling and hollering. The only thing worse than watching that saliva-fest unfold? Madison’s watching it too, with an expression difficult to read but that looks awfully close to bummed, and Jefferson can barely take it. When James turns to him, he immediately averts his eyes down to his lunch tray. He’s a measly breakdown away from standing up on the table in the cafeteria and asking James out then and there, going: ‘That sign was for you, I know how much you love that game because you never stop going on about it! The art is crap and I don’t even like the game, but you deserve the grandest promposal in the world!’.

But alas, fairytales aren’t for high school. And even if they _were_ , Jefferson is not someone who can help write one, much less make it come true. 

* * *

The senior’s prom is due tomorrow, and Thomas Jefferson _still_ has no date. He’s been asked out by a few girls and this cute, shy guy, but none of them are Madison, so he politely declined all of their offers. To distract himself, he instead focuses on Hamilton and Laurens’ plans for the ball. As a couple for over a year now, asking each other out for the dance may sound a bit unnecessary, yet they both made over-the-top promposals, like the sappy dorks they are.

Furthermore, Alexander and Thomas are competing over who will have the most extravagant suit. As snazzy as Hamilton’s gradient blazer and trousers are, they’re no match for what Jefferson has in store. He may not have succeeded in asking his best friend out, but he’s still gonna be the prettiest partner-less loser in that ballroom - which may not count for much but it’s what he’s got.

The trio is hanging out at Hamilton’s place. Thomas is too busy laying face-down on Hamilton’s bed, moping and wallowing in self-pity to realize that his friends are secretly whispering and giggling on the other side of the room. When he does notice, he calls out: “Hey, peanut gallery! What’s so funny?”

Laurens buries his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, shaking with laughter so intense it makes the curly ringlets of his hair, but Alex tries to school his expression, shaking his head.

“Nothing! It’s nothing. We just invited someone over,” he replies with that glint of mischief in his eye that gives Thomas anxiety - what has the bastard done now?

He hears the front door open and dreads the thought that his friends might have set him up with a date for prom. Because if that’s the case, he’s really not interested. John and Alex both _know_ he only wants Madison, so Jefferson can only hope they respect that.

Quiet steps fill the hallway outside and stop outside the door. When it slowly glides open and reveals the guest, Jefferson’s breath is punched out of his lungs.

“Mads?!”

Thomas goes from stunned to terrified, to enamored, and back to stunned all in a matter of seconds, his eyes wide as saucers and his jaw lost somewhere on the floor where he can never find it again, because in front of him stands James Madison, holding **_J E F F E R S O N ‘ S O W N_** handmade sign up above his head like it's a Goddamn boombox.

Uselessly, Jefferson starts sputtering, his mouth, head and heart disagreeing about what he should say. He ends up helplessly turning to Hamilton and Laurens, who both give him frantic thumbs-up, which is of no help to him what-so-ever, so he turns back to Madison.

“Who else could be responsible for such an awful pun but you, Tom?” his object of affection ribs him - posed as an insult, but the fond smile bleeding through exposes its true nature, and Thomas has never felt so praised in his life. Could James really tell who made the sign just from the pun and chicken scratch of a handwriting? Was _that_ why he looked at Jefferson when the sign-thief pulled it out? Either way, why is Madison holding it up in front of _him?_

“How’d… How’d you know it was mine?”

In response, James rolled his eyes, flipping the sign, and on the backside was Thomas’s signature in the corner. So he _did_ write his name on it!

“The guy who used it threw it in the bin after his date said yes. I had this sneaky feeling he wasn’t clever enough to think of it by himself, and I was right! When I saw your signature, I was about ready to throw hands-,” rambles James angrily before realizing his change in volume and turning red, and it’s the cutest thing Thomas has ever seen. Touched, he whispers: “You went dumpster diving for me?”

“Well, it laid on the very top, so I wouldn’t call it-...” but he trails off, meeting Jefferson’s eyes and clearing his throat, refocusing on his task.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have enough time to make a sign for _you_. I only worked up the courage to ask after finding this. I hope it will do for now.”

“You mean…?” asks Thomas, getting a very aggressive: “Duh!” from their audience, but he hushes them. He wants to hear it from the man himself.

James nods, kicking some invisible dirt off the ground. “Yeah. I do. I’m not great at romantic gestures, and I didn’t plan a speech, but… prom?” he asks, and it doesn’t matter much to Jefferson at all _how_ James asks him, because the very fact that he’s asking him in the first place is _more_ than enough to Jefferson!

The only thing that irks him about it is the fact that Madison beat him to it when Thomas has been wanting to do this since the senior prom date was announced.

So he expresses his frustration, a wet laugh painting his words as he blinks away tears.

“I’ve been tryna ask you out since for fucking ever! Of course I’ll go to prom with you!” and the responding arch of eyebrows and sheepish bow of Mads’ head tells Jefferson that the man truly had no idea how he felt. So Thomas makes sure James knows _exactly_ what he wants by crossing the distance and tackling him in a big hug, practically wrapping himself around him to the sound of aggressively supportive hooting and clapping from the peanut gallery.

“This is my first gay wedding,” mock-cries Laurens in the background, and if it isn’t for the fact that Jefferson has his face buried in the crook of Madison’s warm neck and never wants to let him go, he would be choking his stupid friend out right now. But Madison just giggles at their friend’s antics, gently stroking Thomas’s absolute whirlwind of hair as he hugs him close, and Jefferson can tune out the background noise then, allowing himself to thoroughly nuzzle his face against the furnace of a man that is James Madison; and exhale a triumphant sigh of relief, because he was going to prom with his best friend!

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not nearly creative enough to think of what Thomas' promposal sign to Madison could be; if you have any suggestions, please feel free to drop them below. Don't forget kudos/comments if you liked what you read, it helps out a lot! <3


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